“A dragon husk?” Quarrah clarified.
Raek nodded. “Basically a complete set of scales, shed right there next to a big rock. I pulled Ard and Tanalin back to show them my find. Tanalin’s instinct was to shout to the crew captain. It was procedure for a find like this. But Ard held her back. He realized that the thing in front of us meant money.”
“But the scales were uncut,” said Quarrah. “They’re practically useless that way.”
“Actually, there’s a market for uncut scales if you know the right channels,” said Raek. “We didn’t, at the time. But Ard had a crazier plan. You see, my cousin worked at a Coinery on Dronodan. Ard thought maybe we could cut the Ashings ourselves.”
“And your cousin went along with it?”
“Sparks, no!” cried Raek. “He was just our way inside. Poor Andus had no idea …” Raek slowly pulled off his knit cap. “Tanalin didn’t like the plan, but we marked the spot so we’d be able to find the husk again. By nightfall, what started out as an idea to steal a few scales had escalated to taking the entire husk.”
Quarrah scoffed. “Of course.” They were talking about Ardor Benn. “The more Ashings the better.”
“It wasn’t really about the Ashings,” Raek said. “I mean, it was. But not just for the sake of getting rich. I’m guessing Ard never told you anything about his parents?”
Quarrah thought back to that carriage ride so long ago. She’d been quick to tell him about her father’s death and mother’s abandonment, but now that she gave it some thought, it seemed like Ard had never told her anything real. Certainly nothing about his life before rusing.
“All the years I’d known him, Ard’s father worked the silver mines a few miles south of Beripent. About two years into our stint on Pekal, Ard got word that his pa had been in an accident. Rail cart smashed up his leg something awful. Healers said the leg had to come off at the knee unless he had significant amounts of Health Grit to reknit the bone. The mine owner, a real gem of a guy named Baron Siv, had a policy in place for injuries like that. He loaned the Grit, and Ard’s father took it. Better than losing a leg for a working-class citizen. He made a full recovery and was back in the mine five cycles later. That was when Baron Siv’s collectors came knocking. There was no way Ard’s parents could get out from under a debt that large, even with his mother taking an extra shift at the garden plots.”
“What about Ard’s income?” Quarrah asked. As she understood it, Harvesters usually made good money.
“We weren’t making as much as we should have been. Wasn’t until later we learned that Lord Creg allowed his Captain and Tracers to skim off the top of our earnings,” Raek said. “Anyway, Ard saw the husk as a way to get his parents out from under the baron’s thumb and set them up right. That was a cause even Tanalin Phor could get behind. She knew and respected Ard’s folks. Good Wayfarists.”
Add that to the list of things making Quarrah feel hurt. It was becoming more and more obvious that this Tanalin had known the real Ard. Quarrah knew only a face.
“After our crew had Harvested the Slagstone, we made our way back toward the harbor,” Raek went on. “One of the nights we ended up camping just south of the husk. This was when things were about to get risky, and Tanalin was a nervous wreck. In order for our plan to work, we needed to steal a Drift crate, and that’s a crime punishable by death. Ard was nervous, too, but not about making the theft. He was in love with Tanalin, and he couldn’t bear the thought that something could happen to her if things went wrong.”
Pah! Tanalin sounded like a wimp. It was hard for Quarrah to imagine Ard in love with anyone, let alone someone who trembled at the thought of breaking a law.
“Ard developed a backup plan,” Raek said. “He brought me in on it, but he didn’t tell Tanalin. It was dangerous and complicated—classic Ardor Benn. Early in the evening, Ard slipped away and spent a few hours making preparations. He moved the husk, dragging it south and dropping it right at the edge of the shoreline cliff, fairly close to our camp. But we were going to need a Drift crate to get the thing all the way to the Harbor.”
Raek waved his knit cap absently at a nighttime insect fluttering past. “In a regular crew, shifts are taken to watch the Drift crates at night. I rigged up a fuse to detonate a small bit of Light Grit in the trees to draw their attention. Once their backs were turned, the three of us grabbed the crate and ran.”
“That doesn’t sound overly tricky for the ruse artist I know,” said Quarrah. Stealing a Drift crate under cover of darkness was something she would do.
“Yeah. We were pretty new at this kind of stuff. And apparently we weren’t as sneaky as we’d hoped.”
“They caught you?”
“They saw us making off down the slope and shouted to wake up the rest of the crew,” said Raek. “Obviously, we’d hoped to make a clean getaway, but now that they were on to us, Ard initiated the backup plan.” Raek stuffed the cap back on his head. “Ard steered us down to the shoreline. Tanalin was panicking. Ard explained that he’d moved the husk to a closer spot, and maybe we’d still have time to get it loaded before the others caught us.
“We reached the husk. Tanalin helped me load it into the Drift crate, but it was clear there was no chance of getting away. That was the whole point of Ard’s backup plan. He never would have let Tanalin get involved without a way to prove her innocence if we were caught.”
“I’m not seeing the plan.” So far, stealing a Drift crate and a husk of dragon scales was very incriminating.
“I shot him,” Raek said. “I shot Ard twice in the chest. At least, that’s what it looked like. I was firing blanks and Ard had capsules of pig’s blood hidden beneath his shirt.”
“Sounds familiar,” Quarrah muttered.
“It’s a good trick,” replied Raek. “Tanalin screamed, and the gunshots sent the crew directly to us. I detonated a cloud of Prolonged Barrier Grit around the Drift crate and put the smoking Roller in Tanalin’s hand. She was frozen. Numb. One of the Tracers came out of the trees just as Ard’s bloody body tumbled off the edge of the shoreline cliff.”
“How did he survive the fall?” Quarrah asked.
“While Tanalin and I loaded the husk, Ard roped himself into a harness that he’d prepared,” explained Raek. “Tanalin couldn’t see it in the dark.”
Raek had said the backup plan was dangerous and complicated. With the fake blood, the blank shots, the harness and ropes …
“No one could see Ard’s body from the clifftop,” continued Raek. “The Tracer claimed he witnessed Tanalin pull the trigger. She couldn’t speak, but I smoothed over the rest with a preplanned story about how Ard had tricked us into taking a Drift crate because he’d found an injured person at the shoreline. When we arrived, it turned out to be a dragon husk. He loaded it into the crate and tried to convince us to help him take it to the harbor. I refused and threw a Barrier cloud around the Drift crate to stop him. He tried to attack me, and Tanalin shot him twice.”
“Your crew bought that story?” Quarrah asked.
“All the evidence was laid out for them,” Raek replied. “Ard was known for being a bit of a wild card. The hatch on the Drift crate was open, so the captain could see Ard’s dragon husk. Just couldn’t get to it because of the Prolonged Barrier cloud.”
“And the smoking Roller exonerated Tanalin,” Quarrah surmised.
“She never even tried to contradict my story,” Raek said. “We were counting on her grief to solidify the whole thing. The captain was actually pleased with the discovery of the husk. Bringing home some uncut scales would get him a nice bonus. He ordered camp to be moved to the shoreline so he could keep a close eye on that Drift crate until the detonation cloud burned out.”
“So you never got the dragon husk?” Quarrah asked.
Raek raised one eyebrow. “Do you really think Ardor Benn failed his first ruse? He was counting on our captain to move camp to the shoreline. In fact, Ard helped us do it.”
“What? How?”
“Ard pulled himself up from the cliff, tugged his hat down low, and met me back at the campsite,” Raek went on. “It was dark. The action was over. People were tired. They weren’t looking for a dead man. Ard and I grabbed a new Drift crate and slipped away in the commotion. Of course, I couldn’t stay with him. I had to get back to the shoreline and make sure that all eyes were on that first Drift crate, because the husk inside was actually nothing more than a papery skin.”
“It wasn’t real?”
“Earlier that evening, Ard had spent hours cutting all the rough scales out of the husk and piling them up at the first site. More than eight hundred usable scales. That’s the only reason the husk was lightweight enough for him to move down to the shoreline. The captain was pretty chapped to find out the truth, once the Prolonged Barrier cloud burned out. And Tanalin was downright sick. Ard had died for a worthless skin …”
“Didn’t the captain notice that a second Drift crate had gone missing?” Quarrah asked.
Raek nodded. “Chalked it up to poachers that must have raided the camp while everyone was out looking for the first stolen crate. Stuff like that happens in a big crew. Captain accepted the loss and our crew sailed back to Talumon to disband for the rest of the cycle.”
“So how did Ard get off Pekal?”
“He emptied the tools from that second Drift crate and loaded it with his bounty of uncut scales,” Raek explained. “Then he dragged that blazing Drift crate all the way down to the harbor, arriving the moment before the final Reggies set sail to avoid the Moon Passing. He claimed the Fourth Decree, and said he and the Drift crate had been separated from the rest of the crew during a storm. They checked his name against our earlier manifest, took him on board without question. That night, I commandeered a fishing boat and sailed out to meet the Reggie ship on its way to Beripent. Ard flagged me down, insisting that he get the Drift crate back to Talumon to appease an angry employer. Since a stop at Talumon would add hours to their trip home, the Reggies approved me to take him. So we loaded the Drift crate and sailed away.
“Eventually, we took advantage of my cousin and got all those scales coined into seven-mark Ashings,” Raek said. “Freed Ard’s parents from their debts and got them set for life in a little country home on leeward Espar. But Ard had to start a new life. He couldn’t risk letting his parents know that he was alive in case Tanalin spoke to them.”
“Why didn’t he go to her?” Quarrah asked. “Once everything had settled, why didn’t Ard tell her the truth?”
Raek shrugged. “The thrill of the ruse, I guess. We’d been so successful with the scales that Ard wanted to do another scheme. And another. Kept thinking that he’d eventually have enough money to go back to Tanalin and sweep her off her feet. He even mentioned that this ruse might be the one. With a payout like this ruse offered, he could finally be with her again. So it’s not hard to see why Ard was a little rattled to discover that Tanalin Phor is hunting him.”
Quarrah swallowed hard. Raek’s words stung in her chest. It was a silly sense of jealousy, for a bygone relationship. But maybe the relationship wasn’t as bygone as Quarrah wanted to believe. It seemed like Ard was still in love with this woman. That’s why he had never mentioned her to Quarrah.
She felt a pit of anger boiling up in her stomach. Had her affections toward Ard been misplaced all this time? Had she deluded herself to believe that he felt something for her?
Quarrah wanted Raek to walk away now. It would be easier to be alone with her thoughts than to try to keep a conversation going. Perhaps it would have been better to hear that story from Ard. But then, Quarrah doubted he’d ever tell her.
So why had Raek suddenly been so willing to divulge Ard’s story?
Perhaps it was some measure of emotional revenge. Raek was upset that Ard had gone to Quarrah about the traitor, when he should have talked to him. And Quarrah felt the same way about this Tanalin Phor.
Quarrah tucked her legs into her hammock and leaned back, giving a not-so-subtle hint to Raek that their conversation was over. But the big man didn’t leave for a very long time. He stood beside the tree at Quarrah’s feet, staring into the dark forest.
Both were hurt by each other’s words. Not because they’d heard them, but because they hadn’t heard them from Ardor Benn.
Undertaking this task has caused me to ponder the choices that led me here. I steel myself against regrets. There is no place for them now.
CHAPTER
30
The dragon was flying.
Ard flinched as Nemery grabbed his arm, her fingers biting nervously into his bicep. “Look at that. Look at that!” Nemery whispered frantically, as though Ard hadn’t noticed the massive beast rise above the trees. “Why is she flying?” she persisted. “Dragons are only supposed to fly if threatened by a larger dragon, or roosting at the summit for the Moon Passing. Or if the mother’s sense tells her that her egg has been fertilized, but that can’t possibly be the case.”
“That may be what your books taught you,” Ard answered quietly, “but out here in the real world, the dragons don’t always follow the rules.”
“Then why is she flying?” Nemery asked again.
“Let’s find out.” Ard ran into the muddy glade where they had been observing the dragon.
It was hard to gauge what time it was, though Ard guessed it was edging toward late afternoon. A rainstorm had rolled in early that morning and persisted heavily until after midday. Now the island was a slippery, muddy mess, the sky still thick with dark clouds, and an occasional drizzle reminding them that the storm had not fully passed.
Ard didn’t dare pause to spray an orange Marker. He’d have to double back and do it later. If the dragon was in flight, she would be capable of covering a tremendous amount of ground. It was a move like this that led most Tracers to lose their dragons.
Nemery followed right behind, as Ard had found she liked to do. The girl was strong and determined, two characteristics that made her an excellent companion. The more time he spent with her, the more he realized the truth.
Ard was something of a Wayfarist.
It took Nemery assuming it to jar the roots of his belief. Ard didn’t know if he really believed in the Homeland, but there were certain principles of Wayfarism that still lived on in his heart. The driving desire to progress. Never Settle. Make yourself into someone stronger and smarter than you were the day before. Weren’t those his primary motivators whenever he ran a ruse?
Who was Ardor Benn? He was something of a contradiction. A Wayfarist ruse artist. It was why he always found himself caring so deeply, and investing so fully in whatever job he took on. It was why this current job, no matter how crazy it seemed, was worth doing. Because at the root of this ruse was a Holy Isle.
Halavend had more power over Ard than he cared to admit. Because at the end of the day, how different were he and Isle Halavend? Halavend, too, was something of a contradiction, and that united them.
Halavend must have known, deep down, that threads of belief were still woven inside Ardor Benn. From Ard’s willingness to trust Halavend, to his familiarity with the Mooring, to the very fact that he had not changed his religious name.
Nemery Baggish was a different level of devout. The girl followed Ard based solely on belief. Because Wayfarists had a moral obligation to watch out for one another. Nemery felt safe with Ardor, and that alone rekindled a bit more of his faith.
Ard burst through the trees and came to a grinding halt, Nemery gasping alongside him. They stood at the edge of a cliff, the face dropping some eighty feet in front of them. The bottom of the cliff met a bare rocky slope that climbed away from them at a gentle angle.
“That’s why she flew,” Ard said. The dragon had landed on the opposite slope, roughly the same altitude as Ard and Nemery. But between them was a significant drop-off. The big sow folded her muscular wings and paused.
“She knew the terrain,” Ard explained. “Flying was the quickest way to get across.�
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“But why would she risk exposing herself just to cross the cliff?” Nemery glanced sideways. “She could have worked her way around over there.”
“She was surveying the area,” Ard said. The dragon started back down the scree slope she had just flown over, her tail swiping sharply to the side and sending small fragments of rock skittering downward.
“She’s about to do it, isn’t she?” Nemery asked. “Deposit the slag.”
“I think so,” muttered Ard. To be honest, he hadn’t ever witnessed the event. Typically, the Harvesting crew didn’t arrive on the scene until long after the Slagstone had been deposited.
Nemery was grinning. “It’s the perfect location,” she gushed. “The lack of vegetation on the rocky hillside will reduce the amount of preparation she’ll have to do for the firing. They’re cautious about breathing fire, and they have surprising control over the flames. But they always have to clear around the slag to prevent fire from spreading across the mountain.”
“Come on,” Ard said, impressed by Nemery’s constant fount of knowledge. “We need to find a way down this cliff and mark it for the rest of the crew.”
“Wait. We’re not going to watch?”
“You do know what Slagstone is, right?” he answered. “Let’s give the dragon some privacy.”
Nemery seemed a little disappointed, but she followed Ard, casting frequent glances to the opposing hillside where the dragon was digging and stamping to prepare the area. Ard was anxious to obtain the fired Slagstone, but he had absolutely no desire to witness it coming out.
They found a rough ramp-like cleft carved into the cliff face. Ard took some quick arm measurements and determined that the path would be wide enough to accommodate the crew’s large Drift crate.
Tree roots had found purchase there, creating a forested wall along some stretches. The slag-depositing dragon was hidden from view as they descended the steep notch, much to Nemery’s disappointment.
The Thousand Deaths of Ardor Benn Page 49